


Judge Me By My Size, Do You?

by ereshai



Series: Various Prompt Fills [34]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic), Firefly, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Chirping, Community: comment_fic, Gen, Kissing, Love Letters, M/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-07-12 06:20:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 1,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7088761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ereshai/pseuds/ereshai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Incredibly short fics need a home, too.</p><p>1. Getting There, C/C (MCU), G - prompt: fifth kiss<br/>2. For Want Of A..., Simon Tam (Firefly), G - prompt: Someone arrives twenty minutes later - and changes everything.<br/>3. Judge Me By My Size, Do You?, zimbits (Check, Please!), G - see chapter for prompt<br/>4. Dickfetti, C/C (MCU), PG - picture prompt<br/>5. What's Cookin'?, C/C (MCU), G - Coulson can cook - it's canon<br/>6. Dear Jack, zimbits (Check, Please!), G - The way you said "I love you" - in a letter</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Getting There, Clint/Coulson (MCU)

Their first kiss was a surprise. So was the punch to the face that followed. (It'll be worse if Phil ever survives a suicide mission and then neglects to tell Clint. Again.)  
  
Their second kiss was weird. Apparently, Natasha wasn't kidding when she told them to kiss and make up. Neither Clint or Phil wanted to be the one to tell her things don't actually work that way. (They're not sure why it helped. A little.)  
  
Their third kiss was brief. They were still working their shit out, but Clint didn't want to leave with Phil thinking he could never forgive him - not when there was a chance he wouldn't come back.  
  
Their fourth kiss was forgotten, at least by Clint. Pain medication tends to do that to him. Phil assured him he hadn't missed much.  
  
Their fifth kiss is...perfect. They still have their issues but those issues aren't looming over everything like a specter of doom anymore. It's just Clint and just Phil, and it's going to be Clint-and-Phil, no matter what comes next.


	2. For Want Of A..., Simon Tam (Firefly)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For a prompt on comment_fic: any Whedonverse. any. Someone arrives twenty minutes later - and changes everything.

He hurried toward the ship's...dock, for lack of a better word. He was a little behind schedule, but surely the captain would wait a few minutes for a paying customer. He just hadn't realized how difficult it would be to find a way to move his fragile cargo.  
  
There was a worrying gap in the line of ships that loomed over the crowd. Maybe the Serenity was a low-profile transport?  
  
He stared at the empty spot, panic welling up inside him. Twenty minutes, he was overdue by twenty minutes. Booking this transport had taken the last of his funds - what was he supposed to do now?  
  
A man in a gray shirt and a brown jacket approached him. He was holding a gun. "Simon Tam, you are bound by law to stand down."


	3. Judge Me By My Size, Do You?, zimbits (Check, Please!)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack chirps Bitty about being small, but Bitty's got chirps of his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [this tumblr prompt](http://stressbakerbitty.tumblr.com/post/149109078097/so-what-i-cant-help-but-think-about-is-jack). Previously posted on my [Check, Please! sideblog.](omgnotanothercpblog.tumblr.com)

It goes without saying that Jack loves it when Bitty comes to visit. For many reasons, of course, some of which he won’t bring up outside the bedroom, because whatever goes on in there is between him and Bitty alone.

But some of those reasons take place in the kitchen, and not all of them have to do with Bitty’s food.

One of those reasons is happening right now, in fact.

“Why on earth do you keep those all the way up there?” Bitty complains as he reaches for something high in a cupboard. He’s up on his toes, stretching as far as he can. It does wonderful things for his ass.

“Do you want me to…” Jack asks, but he doesn’t get up. He knows the answer, so he just leans back and admires the view.

“No, no. I’ve got it.” Bitty plants one hand on the counter and hops up just enough to grab what he wants. “That’s it. I am buying you a kitchen stool next visit. Or maybe I’ll just rearrange everything in a way that makes _sense_.”

Jack takes a sip of his coffee. “I like my stuff where it is,” he says with a smile that Bitty can’t see. “Maybe if you weren’t so small…”

Bitty’s back at his mixing bowl, adding whatever it was he’d grabbed. “Huh,” he says in a thoughtful tone.

“What is it?” Has Bitty figured him out? Jack could move a few things around, make them easier for Bitty to reach if he’s upset about it. He takes another drink.

“As I recall, that’s _not_ what you were sayin’ last night, Mr. Zimmermann.”

Jack chokes on his coffee.

“In fact, it was pretty much the opposite, wasn’t it, darlin’?” Bitty’s still stirring, as if he hasn’t just chirped Jack _so hard_.

“Ah, I’m not sure-“

“Not sure about what, sweetheart?” Jack can’t see Bitty’s face, but he can hear the smile in his sugary-sweet voice.

“I’m not sure I remember that. Maybe you should remind me, eh?” He sets his coffee cup down on the table and stands up.

“What in the world?” Bitty says as Jack scoops him up and puts him over his shoulder. “Wait, the oven’s on!”

Jack pauses just long enough to turn the dial to ‘OFF’ and then marches through the apartment to the bedroom, where he reminds them both of his very favorite reasons he loves it when Bitty visits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Go [here](http://relevantlyrambling.tumblr.com/post/149142699633/stressbakerbitty-so-what-i-cant-help-but-think) for an different take on the prompt.
> 
> Author tidbit:  
> I think it's funny how the title of this ficlet collection, which I started well before I fell into the Check, Please! fandom, happens to be the perfect title for this chapter.


	4. Dickfetti, Clint/Coulson (MCU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confetti? No, dick!fetti!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A blast from the past - [ originally posted on my tumblr](http://ereshai.tumblr.com/post/96331628496/dammit-clint-dickfetti-alternatively) in 2014 in response to a picture posted by dammit-clint.

“Barton,” Coulson said, calmly. “I am going to pretend that these,” he indicated the tidy pile of foil confetti on the corner of his desk, “are arrows, and not exactly what they look like.”

Clint picked up one of the tiny shapes. “Arrows, really?” They looked a little like arrows - badly made ones. “I don’t think a bow exists that would fire something shaped like this. Can’t we just call ‘em dicks? It hurts my professional pride to call these things arrows.”

“If this happens again, you’ll be attending one of HR’s seminars on sexual harassment in the workplace. How would your professional pride like that?”

“I suppose we could say love arrows,” Clint mused.

“Am I clear? This kind of thing is not suitable for the workplace.”

Clint’s eyes lit up. “So personal living spaces are okay? Awesome.” He scooped up the confetti. “Bye, sir.”

“Barton-” Coulson began, but it was too late. He wondered where Clint would scatter the stuff. His bed? His underwear drawer?

Coulson picked up the envelope that held two weekend passes to the local comic con. For their next anniversary, he would not say 'Surprise me’ when Clint asked what he wanted. He loved his gift, but Clint’s surprise - dick-shaped confetti exploding out of a rigged gift box - was not his idea of a good time.

A piece of confetti fell from the ceiling and landed on his desk. Maintenance was going to love this.


	5. What's Cookin'?, Clint/Coulson (MCU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coulson does this for all the agents he supervises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when it became canon on AOS that Coulson could cook? - here's a ficlet in response to a [post](http://ereshai.tumblr.com/post/99495573296/its-canon) about that - also from 2014.

Clint stepped into his apartment and closed the door behind him. The light was on in the kitchen, and he could hear a cupboard being closed. He drew his gun, and held it out in front of him, pointed at the floor - _only aim at what you are prepared to shoot_. He’s only been in this apartment - and out of SHIELD-issued quarters - for two weeks; he’s pretty sure he knows who’s in his kitchen. He rounded the door, gun still aimed low, to find Coulson looking through his cupboards.

“Barton,” Coulson said with a quick glance. He gave an approving nod when he saw the gun in Clint’s hands. “Your nutritionist was worried about your diet.”

Clint straightened and holstered his weapon. “I’ve been on my own before.”

“It’s common for agents to fall into poor eating habit once they’re out of training and meals aren’t so regimented.” Coulson put a couple of cereal boxes away - Clint’s least sugary favorites, he noticed without surprise.

“Yeah, I got that lecture.” He didn’t move from his spot in the doorway. "Don’t…I’m not a kid." _I don’t want you to see me as a kid_.

"I do this for all of the agents I supervise, Barton,” Coulson said without looking at him.

“I know. You gonna cook for me, too?” He said it without any particular inflection, but Coulson stiffened abruptly.

“I’ll let you finish putting this away.” He turned, avoiding Clint’s eyes, and took his jacket from where it was draped over the back of a chair. Clint said nothing.

As Coulson passed him in the doorway, Clint reached out and grabbed his hand. “Stay for dinner?”

Coulson finally looked at him, his eyes searching Clint’s face for…something. He nodded. “I can whip up-”

“I’ll cook,” Clint interrupted him.

“Yeah. Okay.”


	6. Dear Jack, zimbits (Check, Please!)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: [The way you said "I love you."](http://omgnotanothercpblog.tumblr.com/post/149521992796/the-way-you-said-i-love-you) \- in a letter

Dear Jack,

I feel a little silly writing you a letter when we talk almost every day. We talk all the time, about everything. We’ve got a whole lot of words between us – most of them mine, I’m not ashamed to admit it.

We’ve said things that are silly and meaningless, just playing around. There are things you’ve said that I carry with me, wonderful things that I can hardly believe were actually meant for me. There are things I’ve had to forgive you for (and I have forgiven you, you know that), but that feels like so long ago; they’ve almost faded away.

I worry that’s what will happen with all of our words, even the good ones. Because there’s no way to keep them except in our memory, and sometimes memories aren’t loud enough when there’s other things in your head telling you you don’t deserve what you have. So I’m putting some of those words on paper, so you can refresh your memory whenever you need to.

You deserve good things, Jack Zimmermann. You’ve worked hard for what you have and YOU DESERVE IT ALL. I love you.

I LOVE YOU.

I know I repeated myself there, and I’ll keep on repeating it as many times as you care to hear it. I’ve also uploaded a couple of sound files and a video to your phone. I’d hire a skywriter, but that seemed a little over the top (and a lot expensive), so I’ll save that for a special occasion.

Love,

Eric Richard Bittle

 

P.S. I’ve signed this with my full name, so it’s official and binding and I don’t even know what all else.


End file.
